“I’m a driver, I’m a winner. Things are gonna change, I can feel it.”
So my barfday was last Thursday; I am now twenty-two. I like it! Doesn’t sound as babyish as twenty-one. No offense, you babies. Anyway, on my birthday I didn’t really do anything besides pick up my Tank Girl comics in Orlando. Friday, I went to the demolition derby in Bithlo… aka Crash-a-Rama. I’ve never been to one, so I thought I’d give it a go. I went with YPBv1 and his Marine Corps buddy. Not the most exciting group to go with, but it was ridiculous nonetheless. How could cars and school buses racing into each other not be? I took this rare opportunity to indulge in Bud Light and “hoot-n’-holler” at my favorite cars/drivers. Habitat photos l
School bus races n’ figure 8’s.
I went to high school with these people.
This guy had a #8 Dale Earnhardt Jr. shirt on; his undershirt showing through was also #8. His hat was #3 Dale Earnhardt. NASCAR overloadin’.
This mullet was really enjoying the kettle corn. Man? Woman? YOU decide!
I’m not sayin’ anything.
Crash! Maim! Races!
Overall, it was a major Mountain Dewian event. The Marine Corps guy was driving and wanted to leave at midnight, but the “good” races were the last three. We missed those. I used a port-a-potty. It was really clean and not near as gross as the one I used a few months ago on a job site. Did I tell you about that one? It was so gross, right in the middle of the site, and said “Men.” I complained to the foreman and he took a Sharpie and wrote “WO” in front of it. I had no choice but to use it. Someone had something slightly rotting for lunch and I almost lost mine (the potty had been baking in 90F heat for hours). But anyway, in closing, the lady selling the Buds n’ Bud Lights asked for my I.D., then asked, “What year do you have to be born in? Do you know?”
I rest my case. Hey. I’d go again: if someone else was paying!
PS – Crash-a-Rama has a myspace. Ha!
Nothing I can really talk about can one-up my redneck story, so I guess I’ll leave it at that!